Data-Driven Daoist

Johan’s therapist had been confused by him. She couldn’t tell if he was a plain-old narcissist or just a severe avoidant.

Most would agree on the former. Even Johan.

But dad said he had developmental problems. The bullies in school called him autistic. Other psychologists and their ilk tried to write research papers on him. Well, not actually on him. He would’ve been just one number in the statistics for their longitudinal studies. That hurt Johan’s pride, so he didn’t give them permission.

He’d read books on the attachment theory.

Secure. Insecure. In the latter, there were avoidants and anxious folks. There were more subcategories, and apparently it changed depending on the country. Someone who would be considered anxious in Sweden would be considered secure in Japan, where being clingy and needy was seen as a virtue. Or was it something else? Yu Han couldn’t remember clearly.

In any case, Johan had been defective. The therapist didn’t say it like that, but he’d read the invisible words. This wasn’t the therapist his ex wanted him to visit. This one was under his own payroll, so he trusted her even less.

A wrong brain. Yu Han liked to think his current brain had the circuits Johan lacked. He didn’t want to be called a narcissist, or a psychopath.

So was he just an avoidant?

He looked at Huang Niuniu’s sleeping mug. She looked like one of those pugs. Was she having a nightmare? Ugh, ugly. She had snot smudged and for some reason, was biting the bedframe. Every few minutes, she’d mumble nonsense and thrash around, kicking the hut wall. With her body origin points, she could probably kick a hole in it. Or maybe not? They did say the sect employed arrays enhancing the structures.

Usually, Yu Han would call her plain. Maybe it was because he was used to seeing modern standards of beauty? Whether photoshopped or AI-enhanced. In movies, soap operas, music videos, YouTube, Instagram, or when he was an acne-covered teen, on porn, the most beautiful, sexy, cute, sultry, adorable, and whatever you called it people were always there on the internet. One click away. One $15 subscription if he was feeling fancy.

Uhhh… if I wasn’t pulling chicks, would I have become a gooner?

Probably not. Yu Han had girlfriends even before the most recent ex. All of them had been ten outta tens, as his friend group from college would have said it. All of them were better looking than Huang Niuniu.

Compared to them, and even Huang Linxue, Little Three, Tan Ruoxuan, Dong Tianlan, Shi Miao, Song Yinuo, the Shark Lady, Liyi Tong, and a lot of the other sect members, the raw beauty just wasn’t there on her face. Her nose kinda looked like a yam, her teeth weren’t perfectly straight, her hair wasn’t longer. Most importantly, she wasn’t a blonde.

She was cute, though.

Her face was otherwise symmetrical. The non-uniform teeth gave her one of those snaggle-tooth appearances, the type those Japanese culture appreciators and anime weebs (himself not included) fangirled over. What was it called? Moe fang? Think Holo, Komachi, and Uzaki. She had biggish eyes, so curious. They even had laser LEDs and a planetarium installed now, with her latest patch fix. Not too big ears and plump lips, though Yu Han realised that was only after she bit or sucked on them. She had that tick when she was panicking. They were normal sized otherwise. Her figure was hourglass. Johan had watched videos of Instagram and OnlyFans models spending near millions to get a whole suit of surgeries from nose jobs to Brazilian butt lifts just to get her kind of body, often with worse results and severe side-effects.

Some girls called her fat. She was insecure about that. Yu Han wished he wasn’t such a visual creature. But he was. Probably most men were. He liked what he did, and didn’t like what he didn’t. Would it change if he built an emotional connection with someone who wasn’t his type? Who was he kidding. Of course it would.

It happened with Huang Niuniu already.

She was so sincere. She was scared of the world. He was like a safe base to her. A lighthouse. An idea man.

That didn’t feel suffocating. Her blatant affection did.

He would help her all he could. But could he love her?

Yu Han didn’t know. He closed his eyes. He tried to sleep naturally. It didn’t work.

Imperial Grade. Jeez. And I get Elite.

Taken from NovelFire, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

In his mind’s eye, the blossoms closed. With the art at Level 9, he had far better and faster control. Sound went away. Sight. Smell. Taste. Touch remained. But only the coldness.

So cold.

Was that his heart? Johan’s?

He was a transmigrator in a strange land. If he could leave, he would. It was too painful here.

He wanted to go back to dad. See his siblings. Say sorry. Pamper his nieces and nephews.

Would they welcome him back?

Did his life have any meaning?

He wasn’t a genius techie. He grew up in money. He had a PhD and a working understanding of many tech fields. But he couldn’t code like the nerds he paid. The AI wave came too fast, and Johan fell into the vibes.

His mind wasn’t keen on research.

He did like numbers though. He liked looking at data. Spreadsheets. Clicking buttons. Getting a result. A chart. And then interpreting them.

But he didn’t like numbers in and of themselves, like those theoretical mathematicians he met during summer school in Norway. Psychos.

He only liked numbers in context of them growing. Going up in a way that benefited him.

Like money.

He would invest. And somehow that would make more money from near nothing. He had consistently made good investments. A few bad ones here and there. But overall he made a lot of people rich. His decisions were driven by the data, yes, but more so the relation data had with people. Maybe, to Johan, both people and money were numbers on a spreadsheet?

Dad excluded. And…. I guess everyone else too.

It's as if he saw things in a sheet other people missed. Or was that just gut feelings?

Did that actually make him a genius?

Why didn’t he feel like it?

He was nothing like the prodigious savants of music and arts.

He did like art though. Not martial arts, but fine arts. Visual arts. Drawing. Painting. Mostly anime girls and fantasy monsters. He was a guy. Why would he draw dudes? He sucked at landscapes. Performance arts were nice too. He loved dancing. Shuffle and swing.

In his dreamscape, he cultivated.

He broke through to Level 10 Initial Step on Thousand Petals Awareness. The night passed.

Huang Niuniu sat on his bed with a smile that wasn’t a smile.

“I-I won’t wait,” she said. “I don’t want to.”

Yu Han wished he could hide under the bed and make her go away.

“If a man comes in and sweeps me off my feet, I’ll let him. No one like Wu Di. Maybe Brother Chu will come for me. He did say so, even though he failed to keep his promise.”

Yu Han stayed silent.

“Say something.”

He didn’t.

She kneeled in front of him and touched his cheek. Their gazes crossed. She wore a playful smile.

“Take your time though,” Huang Niuniu said. “Don’t let what I say pressure you into anything. Your choice is yours, and mine is mine.”

“I—” she stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“I have my life, and I won’t tell you how to live yours.”

He couldn’t reply.

“I would like you to be in mine. That would be the best,” she said. “If you can’t. That’s okay too. I’d hate it if you hated being with me.”

“I… won’t. Probably.”

“I lied.”

“About what?”

“I won’t wait… forever,” Huang Niuniu said. “I’ll look for a good man. I won’t let a man sweep me off my feet. I’ll sweep my man off his feet.”

Yu Han felt a shiver, the type that started in the stomach and rose upwards. Or was it not a shiver but… nerves?

“But not anytime soon,” Huang Niuniu said. “I haven’t burnt anything down yet. Qiao Jinhai first. Or maybe Wu Di?”

She rubbed his whole face with both her hands like kneading dough.

“What are you doing?”

“I won’t wait forever,” Huang Niuniu said. “I heard after core formation, you can live many centuries. That’s a long time for me to think things over. A long time to meet so many studs you’d be biting your shirt. Maybe I’ll find someone before that.”

“Niu’er, you’re a common talent.”

“With an imperial grade bloodline art.”

“You’re confident.”

“I am. So tell me if it’s impossible sooner rather than later, because you never know where a good guy is hiding. Okay? Don’t wait centuries,” she said. “Honestly tell me. I’ll take it as it is. I’ll only cry a little. I swear to the gods and heavens and everything in it.”

Yu Han didn’t speak for a long time. After mustering his courage, he finally told her, “Okay.”

“Promise? You won’t leave me… guessing?”

“Promise.”

“If you find someone else, tell me first. I’ll tell you too, and then you can regret it. A-And if I don’t want to wait anymore, I-I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“B-But don’t force yourself—”

“I won’t.”

Huang Niuniu gave him the warmest hug he had ever received in both his lives. It was tied in first place with his mum and dad’s.

“I can’t handle it if it’s too much at once.”

“Love?”

“Don’t say it like that!” Yu Han felt he could cover his face with a burning sheet of metal. “That’s too direct. Ugh.”

“…affection?”

“It needs to be slow… bite-sized. A bit at a time. I can do agreements, b-but not conditions or hard rules. Otherwise, I’ll take it as controlling behaviour, even if it isn’t. I need to be free. Like a bird.”

“Sure. I think you’re more like a stray cat though.”

“Rude.”

“What happens when you think someone is trying to control you?”

“I feel suffocated. As if I’m trapped underwater. If I feel like that, I’m afraid I’ll do something bad to you. Something I can’t come back from, that I’ll regret forever.”

“You’re so weird.”

“I’m not! My therapist called me a dismissive avoidant with fearful tendencies and… and I’m not weird.”

“Have you been talking to Little Three again? Don’t listen to her. She’s a vixen! She just wants your money.”

“O-Okay. That’s what I mean by controlling behaviour.”

“You’re so complicated. Are you the girl or am I? A kitten?”

“That’s sexism.”

She gave him another hug. A bit too tight. The masculine back-pats weren’t there. It made Yu Han feel squirmy and bubbly.

“We can talk later. You better pray to your big fat belly that I don’t see a handsome guy on my way back.”

The girl left singing a tune, skipping away.

Oh god… what’s happening to me?

He touched his face. Did he have a fever?

By the time he got his composure back, the sun was at its apex, and his earlier predictions came true. Zhang Jiyou had sent his henchman to racket Yu Han.